


Sexy Russian Assassin Murder Thigh Strangle

by plutosrose



Series: Stucky Bingo 2020 [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes is an incorrigible bastard, M/M, Steve/His Guilt, Steven Rogers and His Danger Kink, Steven Rogers and His Pain Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose
Summary: “Have you...I mean can you....um....do....that...”“Are you asking me if I’ve ever strangled someone with my thighs?”-Steve's got some questions about techniques used by Russian assassins.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov
Series: Stucky Bingo 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830826
Comments: 25
Kudos: 180
Collections: Stucky Bingo 2020





	Sexy Russian Assassin Murder Thigh Strangle

**Author's Note:**

> this has been living in my head rent free since I saw TWS a few months ago and now it gets to live on the internet

If Steve had to pick the biggest change that he’d experienced since receiving the serum, he’d say that it was the way that he had so much energy, at any point during the day that he was practically vibrating with it.

For example, it usually wasn’t enough to go for a run in the morning (especially if he was running with Sam, because then he’d have to consciously slow down so that Sam would keep his threats to push him into the ocean to a minimum).

The next best way of blowing off steam was to go to the gym in the Tower and hit the punching bag until his knuckles had the faintest hint of redness around them.

Sometimes he sparred with his teammates, although he always held himself back with them (much easier to put back a bag that had fallen off of its hook than a limb or two). And when Bucky came to live at the Tower, he held himself back again.

“For Christ’s sake, Rogers, fucking hit me,” Bucky had told him after another punch had veered off course, with little force behind it.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

Bucky scoffed, and called over his shoulder at Natasha, who was watching from the side with her arms crossed. “Talia, did you know he hit harder when he was five foot nothing and a stiff breeze could’ve carried him away?”

Natasha snorted and shook her head.

“I am hitting perfectly fine,” Steve snapped.

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure you in like ‘39 would have given me a black eye by now. Pretty sure you did give me a black eye, actually, that time you got in that fight with Billy Tenker?”

He was overthinking this. Bucky had been cleared by medical and was on his way to resuming active missions as part of their team. Bruce had taken a look at his blood samples alongside his own and concluded that there wasn’t much of a difference between the two in terms of cell regeneration.

But Billy Tenker had never spent seventy years as the Winter Soldier.

At about the point that he’d had that thought, Bucky had bypassed his defenses and managed to pin him to the mat, smirking down at him.

A chill went through his entire body, and Bucky was incredibly aware of it, the bastard.

“Well that was fun,” Bucky announced as he stood back up, looking down at Steve and licking his lips. Steve bit his lip. “I gotta head out though. Meeting with Fury.”

Steve was still lying on the mat when Natasha stepped up, looming over him. “You might want to get up, otherwise this is going to be incredibly easy for me,” she said, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Nat was a better sparring partner anyway, he thought to himself, because even if he couldn’t use his full strength, she didn’t come at him with brute physical power anyway–she knew she wasn’t as strong as him, but she was clever, and she used her cleverness to her advantage. Even in the gym, it could be hard to keep his eye on her, because she could slide under his arms or duck underneath a blow and use the wall for leverage--without breaking a sweat. He might have stormed into a HYDRA stronghold single-handedly, but, if he had to put money on it, Nat could have done the same thing and no one would have ever known she’d been there.

And then, for a moment, he lost sight of her completely, and before he could catch up, she’d wrapped her thighs around his neck.

“And this is the part where I would strangle you to death for being too slow,” she said conversationally, patting his head when he gritted his teeth and admitted defeat.

She leapt off of him, catlike and soundless in her movements. “You should work on paying a bit more attention. Not all of us move like Barnes does in a fight.”

A very strange thing happened after they’d finished their match, however. In his head, he could map out the fight with Nat perfectly in his head, but every time he tried to analyze it, Bucky replaced her in his mind.

It had been impossible, once he’d started, to stop himself from imagining Bucky pulling that same finishing move on him. He was then grateful for two things–that a) Nat had to get to a meeting, so she didn’t stick around; and b) that their gyms were private.

That didn’t make him feel any less guilty about jerking off in the shower, though.

-

Later that night, he’d been drifting between sleep and wakefulness, when the sensation of thighs grappling around his neck slammed back into him, and he was unable to think of anything else.

He glanced over at Bucky, who was shifting around enough under the covers to make him think that he was probably awake too.

“Do you remember--” he began, before he noticed that Bucky’s entire body had tensed up.

“You better be careful with how you finish that question,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, curling up tightly.

Steve took a deep breath and sighed. He’d been especially careful with things like memories, or more explicitly, phrases like “do you remember.” Bucky was doing better every day--remembering more and more about who he was and who he had been--having fewer headaches--and here he was asking a question about his memories like it didn’t mean anything at all.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, running a hand along Bucky’s back. “I wasn’t thinking. It’s not a big deal, go back to sleep.”

“Well, I’m awake now,” Bucky grunted, turning to face him. “What did you want to know if I had remembered?”

A blush crept up Steve’s neck at the question. “Never mind, it’s not a big deal.”

“Why are you blushing then?”

The cocky grin that was spreading across Bucky’s face was the same one that had been able to convince any girl to dance with him when they were young--actually young, though he supposed that they were technically young now too.

“I--uh,” Steve began, blush steadily turning a darker shade of pink. “When I was sparring with Nat–you know that move that she does with the garrote wire?”

Bucky blinked at him.

“It’s a move she does when she’s trying to take down an opponent larger than her,” Steve continued. He didn’t usually have much of a need to fill the silence between him and another person--but Bucky was different.

Bucky had always been different.

“And,” Steve gulped. “What she does is that she sneaks up behind you and uses the leverage from her thighs and the wire to try and um...strangle...you.”

In that moment, Steve found himself wishing that the blankets and pillows on the bed could swallow him whole so that he could disappear, and they’d never need to have this conversation.

“What about it?”

He wasn’t sure how seventy years could have passed, and he could have forgotten the way that Bucky, at his core, could be something of an incorrigible bastard. HYDRA couldn’t take away the Brooklyn boy that had teased him relentlessly for details after he’d attended his first and only figure drawing class hosted by the Art Students League, and seen Eleanor McClaron--the girl who had sat next to him in Sunday School--completely naked.

Bucky could still make him go completely tomato-red by bringing up her name.

“Have you...I mean can you....um....do....that...”

“Are you asking me if I’ve ever strangled someone with my thighs?”

The last thing that Steve ever wanted to do was to remind Bucky of his time as the Winter Soldier, but if he’d had a hand in training Nat...then maybe...

“Um...yeah, I guess that’s what I’m asking if you....know.” A safer word, he decided, than ‘remembers.’

“I suppose it’s possible.” He knew Bucky too well to not be acutely aware of the fact that he was putting on a show at the moment. A show, that in this case, Steve suspected was for the purpose of getting him to cough up exactly what he was asking and why he was asking it.

“Um...would you....”

“Would I what, Stevie?”

He was grinning wide and toothy, which made Steve wrinkle his nose at him. “You’re a major bastard sometimes, you know that?”

“That’s what they called me in the army, Major Bastard,” Bucky snorted. “But seriously, what’s on your mind?”

  
Steve bit his lip. “Would you....do that....to me?”

“Strangle you with my thighs?”

Steve was grateful for the fact that the lights were off, though he was pretty certain that Bucky could tell the shade of red he’d just turned. Because he could always tell.

“Well not....actually strangle, but like....kind of...” Steve murmured, worrying his lip again.

“But like a Russian assassin, right?” Bucky asked, grinning more than Steve had frankly expected him to.

“Well yeah, but um...I don’t want it to be weird for you.” A certain Russian phrasebook came to mind at the moment, one that could wipe Bucky’s mind clean and make him an unstoppable killer.

“How about this,” Bucky started. “If I tell you it’s weird for me, we stop. But maybe you shouldn’t decide that for me.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want me to speak Russian while I do it or?”

“Bucky,” Steve choked out as Bucky reached out to run a hand along his side. “You can’t just--”

Bucky then said something in very rapid, fluid Russian that made him whimper. “Okay, gonna take that as a yes,” Bucky snorted.

Gently, Bucky maneuvered him from his side of the bed on top of him, and then guiding him to move further down. Steve whimpered, before he rested his head against his stomach.

“Another thing,” Bucky said, his hands planted firmly on Steve’s shoulders. “Just gotta tap my hip twice and this stops. Or, if you can talk, let’s say...Howling. Not going to run the risk of actually strangling you because you have a pain kink. And a danger kink, now that I think of it. You get off on shit like jumping out of planes without parachutes, don’t you?”

Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve’s neck before he could answer--the only response seemed to be a somewhat high-pitched whine as Steve moved in closer and wrapped his lips around his cock.

  
He kept his grip on Steve tight, switching to Russian as he moaned out: " _Fuck Stevie, look at you. So gorgeous when you suck my cock like that._ " Though from the way that those filthy moans were vibrating against his skin, Bucky had a feeling that he could have read from the phone book in Russian and Steve would have lost his mind.

The pleasure was electric, running up his spine as Steve took him deeper and deeper into his mouth, until he was barely pulling off and Bucky’s legs were wrapped tight around him.

 _“Stevie, I’m going to come, I can’t...I can’t last,”_ he murmured, though it was still in the rapid Russian that was making Steve whine against his hips.

The release was warm and practically blinding, and as he eased his grip on Steve, he looked up at him through those stupid blond lashes of his.

“That was...”

Steve was still hard and panting, and Bucky waisted no time pushing him back into their mattress. “Your turn now.”

“Yes sir,” Steve breathed as he laid back on their pillows.

-

Steve was still trying to catch his breath when Bucky curled up against him. “That was okay...?” Steve asked, glancing down at him.

“Yeah, it was more than okay, Stevie,” he murmured, drawing shapes on Steve’s chest. “You know, all you had to do was ask.”

“I just thought...”

“I didn’t do that as the Soldier, if that helps.”

Steve pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. “Yeah, kind of.”

“And another thing.”

“What?”

“Stop pulling your punches when we spar. I know you are and it pisses me off.”

The look that Bucky gave him then was just on the edge of angry, and Steve gulped. “Right, I just thought...”

“Can’t get back out there if you don’t give me a chance.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed, “Okay. If that’s what you want, I can do that.”

Bucky smiled up at him, and he tilted his head up so that he could kiss him full on the lips.

“Now you got any other secret fantasies, Rogers?”

And honestly, he never could resist that stupid smirk.

**Author's Note:**

> Sexy Russian Assassin Murder Thigh Strangle  
> Creator(s): plutosrose  
> Card number: 012  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26241883  
> Square filled: C3, Free Square "Murder Thighs"  
> Rating: E  
> Archive warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  
> Major tags: Steve/His Guilt, Steven Rogers and His Danger Kink, Steven Rogers and His Pain Kink, Bucky Barnes is an incorrigible bastard, Blow Jobs  
> Summary: Steve's got some questions about techniques used by Russian assassins.  
> Word count: 2,115


End file.
